Ever In Your Favor
by Tris Prior16
Summary: {I don't know what to say to her. Should I apologize? Should I tell her I know what it's like? That I've been through it? No. She doesn't need my sympathy. She's already shown me she's capable of doing for herself, she doesn't need a hand to hold.} {I look up, and see someone standing just 3 yards away. I raise my knife, but she stops me. "Wait," she says.I look at her. "I know."}
1. Chapter 1

Divergent & Hunger Games Crossover:

**A/N: Sorry, I just didn't like this chapter, so I changed it again. Also, because Chapter 3 makes much more sense now.**

**Disclaimer: I own neither the Hunger Games nor Divergent, I only own my plot and my Fanfiction account.**

**Chapter 1:**

**Tris' POV:**

_Prior._

_ But, what does that mean? I can't be related to her, I don't even know her._

_That doesn't mean anything…_

I suck in a breath.

_It doesn't._

"What… was that?" Evelyn shouts, obviously not appealing to the idea of not being in this loop. Her plans, just like Jeanine's, are ruined.

Tobias replies, just as loud as Evelyn. "That was the information people died for, killed for, and enslaved minds for!"

The information _my parents_ died for.

I watch Evelyn closely, seeing her expression go from confidently overpowering, to cowardly and unsure. It doesn't fit her.

A woman walks through the crowd, followed by a man. Many people have stunned looks as she passes them. I feel a twinge of recognition towards the woman, but I can't quite see her face. The man however remains anonymous.

He has a deep shade of some color darkening his crisp suit, with a lighter color stripes. His hair is white a snow, giving him a sinister look. He walks somewhat confidently aside the woman, in spite of having everyone's eyes on _only_ him.

It's evident he's not from here.

Once they reach the front of the room, the woman whispers something to Tori and Harrison, causing Tori's face to fill with rage.

The mystery woman turns around, causing involuntary gasps to emit from different parts of the crowd.

It's Edith.

I can tell though, she's not here for a good reason.

"Everyone," she starts. "Given the circumstances – the fact that the Factions apparently can't cooperate as a whole – everyone involved will not go unpunished. We would like for you to proceed as normal, until further notice-"

"So you think just because Erudite couldn't seem to get along with everyone else, you should take over?" Tori yells. "Well, I'll have you know-"

"Ms. Wu, there is no need to get frustrated over the Erudite – that problem seems to have been taken care of," Edith points out, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips. "You are the one who _solved_ it, anyway."

Tori slumps against Harrison with a look of defeat.

"Now," Edith looks between Tobias and I. "on to more crushing matters. What you had just seen was classified information, to be seen only by leaders-"

"We had every right to know the truth," I say, my voice level, seeing no reason to yell.

"Yes, I _would_ agree, but given the circumstances, I don't."

_ Because you didn't have to watch both your parents die_, I think. _You didn't have to kill your best friend. Betray the ones you love; have the ones you love betray you. You didn't have to choose who lives and who dies... with one bullet, your bullet..._

But all I say is. "That's fine – I don't need your affirmation. What's done is done."

She's trying to hurt me, break me, make me surrender – something Jeanine did not succeed in, something that lead to her downfall – but she is failing miserably.

I am Dauntless; I am Divergent. I can't be controlled.

"This sudden uprising was the first of them, and hopefully the last." I think I see a hint of a smile play on her lips, but I can't be sure – it's gone as fast as it came. "We had peace, and order up until now, when-"

"You see," Christina interrupts. "We are all human; we all have the natural tendency to be curious. This would've happened one way or another."

"Well, which way would you prefer?"

"It doesn't matter which way!" I spit. "We don't have time to dwell on what could have been! We know now, there's nothing we can do about it!" I am yelling now - I only notice when Tobias squeezes my hand -, but I am far from caring.

The corners of Edith's mouth turn upward in a small smile. She motions for the man with the white hair, and they leave without another word.

Anger boils up inside of me, and I feel the sudden urge to follow them. I am considering it when Tobias tugs my arm lightly.

"Look, Tris," he starts in a low voice. I look at him, expectantly. "We can't just demand they tell us what's going on – you know they won't tell us, not after what just happened. Edith is already wary of you; we have to keep a low profile for now. We don't know what's going to happen-"

"And that's why I'm going to find out," I say trying to pull my arm away, but his grip tightens on my arm.

"We can't, Tris."

"Why not?" I say evenly. My anger has died down, and now I just feel tired and desperate.

"Anything can happen. We just… can't, ok? We've been through too much already, and we can't risk anything happening again. I can't let you go – I won't -… I can't…" he pauses, sucking in a breath. "We just have to obey them, for now, until we see where this goes."

I nod. I understand what he means, and no matter how badly I want to know, I agree.

It feels like my anger has completely faded away, and is replaced with a rollercoater of emotions, one of them being content. I'm calmer than before, and it feels nice – I haven't had anything nice happen in a while, and I want to savor it for as long as I can.

I hug him, because he needs it now, I know he does. I can read him like a book, and he's proved to me many times that he could do the same with me.

I hug him because he's hurting; I hug him because he wants me to; I hug him because he loves me, and doesn't want to lose me, and needs to know that he won't lose me.

And he won't.

Tobias begins to look around, and he hugs me tighter, closer.

"Tris, the factionless have all of the guns," he whispers.

I nod. "I know. What do we do now?"

He sighs. "Let's go."

I know he's probably just as impatient as I am, but he always finds a way to block his emotions, and think about things… except when it comes to me.

I don't know how he does it.

Before my conversation with Edith, my first thought would have been to sit quietly, await further instruction, but with Edith in charge, I won't take it. I don't trust her.

But I can't disobey Edith, either. Tobias told me that, and I heard him perfectly. There is no way out now, but there will be, some day, he promised me that.

As I look around the room, I am met with a sullen silence, and grave stares. I'm sure everyone in this room heard our conversation with Edith – we were speaking rather loudly -, and if not, word will spread like wildfire.

I don't let it influence me though; I just walk out, my hand intertwined with Tobias'.


	2. Chapter 2

I sit on a relatively flat rock that isn't far from the rendezvous point Gale and I – subconsciously – agreed on.

Every day for the past few months I've been worried about the Hunger Games. I mean, yesterday, President Snow announced that there will be a "twist", per say, in this year's Hunger Games. This is Prim's first year; I've had enough trouble worrying about myself, and now I have to worry about her, too.

Prim… she's the only person I'm truly sure I care about.

…

The light breeze of the woods – the one I've gotten so used to – is comfortable, but it's not enough to calm the nervous jitters I feel from yesterday's unfortunate announcement.

It makes me think of a different life – a better one, where I wouldn't have to worry about these things.

"Happy Birthday, Catnip," a familiar voice calls, snapping me out of my stupor.

I turn around, amazed by how soundlessly Gale can materialize behind me.

"Very happy, Gale," I reply sarcastically.

Although his presence is comforting, he tends to look at things either very contentedly, or too incredulously.

"Ever so grouchy, Catnip. Why are you so unhappy on this joyous occasion?" Gale says.

I don't respond – I don't know how.

"Just don't think about it, Catnip," Gale says, sensing my concern.

I give Gale a pointed look – how am I just supposed to let it go, with all that's happening?

"I know how to cheer you up," Gale says, getting up. "Good old fashion hunting."

I smile as he places his hand out to me. I take it, and he helps me up.

Of course, after five years of us relying on each other, Gale always knows how to cheer me up; he has for the longest time. Gale is one of the few people who truly know me, and that, I'm grateful for.

…

As Gale and I trudge through the woods, I come across a blackberry bush. I smile as my index and thumb wrap around a berry.

Gale looks at me, noticing that I stopped.

"And may the odds…" I say in a frilly Capitol accent and throw the berry towards him.

He catches it in his mouth, and chews. "be _ever_ in your favor."


	3. Important Info

Dear Reader,

Here's some clearing up if you don't understand my story:

1. This is set before The Hunger Games (first book), and after Insurgent.

2. Some things in the Hunger Games will be change (I'm paraphrasing, certain events will go differently, only for the sake of my story) so I'm not trashing either one of the stories, because I want to do this on my own as much as I can (and I will probably be too lazy to get my Nook, scroll to my book, and search for the page, but end up typing Peta instead of Peeta)

3. Some characters may get OOC, because of my - bad - perception of how the story _should_ - not - go, but if that happens, let me know, and I will try to get you some high quality stuff.

4. If I do something wrong (write the wrong line in a manifesto or some crap) correct me please!

5. This will hopefully be three fanfictions, to go along with the Hunger Games books (do you really think I'm going to write a whole fanfiction worth over three books? You cray)

6. I will make the chapters extremely long (the size of real chapters...) so make sure you have free time.

7. Being that Allegiant isn't out yet, I have nothing to go along with, so if you think this isn't how after Insurgent would have gone, sorry, but I don't know if I want to change that. Unless you get down on your knees and beg! Not really... I wouldn't be able to see that.

*I am not very old, but I'm not very young, so if this sounds like what a kid would write, tell me please. I will be the one on my knees begging for forgiveness then...

I LOVE you all!

- A


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:**

**Tobias' POV:**

Tris and I walk silently out of Erudite, neither of us knowing what to say.

I feel my brain working on overdrive, struggling to assess everything that has happened. The only thing I'm completely aware of is Tris' small hand in mine, filling me to the brim with want that I've–unfortunately–become familiar with.

When Tris comes to a stop by the train tracks, I nearly knock into her, only realizing at the last second.

As we're standing at the tracks, the Sun is just peaking past the horizon, signifying early morning.

Tris sits in the grass, staring – but not really seeing – into the distance.

I start to pace.

_What now? What do we do? _

The factions are about as useful as dirt, right now – we only need them to hold together, _but what happens after that?_

Edith apparently has some ideas.

I look up from attempting to burn holes in the ground with my anger – it didn't work – and see that Tris has been watching me; her eyes are weary, yet alert, ready to wring someone's neck if they get too close for comfort.

Her eyes – oceans of grief and anguish.

I take a moment to steel myself – engrossing in the little calm swimming in her eyes, trying to find purchase on the recent entropy that has plagued us –, dwelling in it, letting it ignite the spark that had burned out from years of no hope; of lies; of betrayal.

She is my safe haven; she is the one I live for, my spring at the end of an ominous winter.

She is mine, and I love her.

I hear the deep rumbling of the train coming our way, and lend Tris my hand. I pull her up, and we start to run with the train. She jumps in first, gracefully, and moves aside as I jump in.

I slide to the floor, my back against the wall, legs spread for her to sit between them. She does, and rests her head against my chest. She plants a small kiss on the hollow of my chest, closing her eyes.

Just like during initiation, I feel that ache – that need. All I want is for her to be safe, to be with me. But I can't always get what I want – that's guaranteed. It's all part of their sick little game to either have the faction system work out, or do whatever else with us _when_ – not _if _– it doesn't.

* * *

The Pit – with its muted lighting and vacant hallways – has an eerie effect to it, but it eases me all the same.

This is the closest thing I've ever had to a home – more so, now that I have Tris.

I lead us to my apartment, although it might as well be _ours_, now. I smile a little at the thought.

I don't recall locking the door when I left – though, I don't remember anything but my concern for Tris – so I try the knob, and it opens.

Tris shuffles inside – apparently finding the idea of staying here alluring – and I go in after her, making sure to lock the door.

When I turn around, she's lying on the bed, eyes closed, breathing heavily, as if just coming back from a long run.

Seeing her like this – so calm yet so broken, so fragile as if one wrong move could cause her to shatter into a million pieces – makes me clench when I realize I could do only so much to make her happy. Yet, so easily, I could inflame her temper, and cause her to feel as if she wants to rip me to shreds.

And I'm sitting here, wanting nothing more than to make her smile…

I feel a part of me break as she opens her eyes, sending me an inquiring glance. I don't acknowledge it; in fact, I do the exact opposite, turning away from her to look at the floor, the ceiling, the bathroom door, anything but her.

I hear the bed _creak!_ and finally look at her, watching her pad toward me. She lays a cool hand on my wrists, looking at me expectantly, her eyes demanding attention.

"What's wrong?" she implores, tenderly, as if approaching a wounded animal. I wince.

_Is that how she sees me right now?_

_Crack! _goes the heart as I feel another piece of me break.

I turn away from her, not wanting to look into those eyes – the ones that have caused me so much agony, but so much liberation. The ones that make me Tobias – the way I _want_ – not Four, the emotion-lacking Dauntless prodigy I'm _supposed_ to be.

She puts a hand on my cheek, turning my face to hers. I close my eyes – still not wanting to look into hers – letting our breaths mix, mine heavy from being so close, hers – I'm hoping – for the same reason.

I eventually concede, and open my eyes. I look into Tris', and am surprised by their intensity; they bore into me as if hoping for me to catch fire with her stare.

"Tell me you love me," I plea.

She's only said it once or twice, and I just need to hear it again.

"I love you," Tris says, lightly pressing her lips to mine.

_Crack!_

"I love you, too," I murmur against her lips, my voice thick with emotion.

The feel of her lips on mine, makes my knees go weak, and sends shivers down my spine. Even now, every kiss is like the first, and causes me to forget everything but her, and the effect she has on me.

_Only she can do this to me._

"Don't leave me," I breathe, looking her in the eye.

Her features change, and her expression is unidentifiable.

She runs a hand through my hair, coming to a stop at the back of my neck.

"Never," she replies, placing a small kiss on my lips, and cheek, and jaw, lighting a trail of fire all the way down.

She walks back onto the bed, closing her eyes. I watch her small figure, relishing in the curves of her hips, to the way her shirt fits snug around her torso, to the way her pretty pink lips, to her small hands cupped around the pillow.

_Crack! _

I realize I have been staring a while, so I stretch out next to her, resting my arm around her waist, burying my face in her hair.

It is then, when I become aware of how tired I am. My eyes grow heavy, and I fade off into a dreamless sleep, with the warm feeling of Tris in my arms, not bothering with the pajamas or blankets.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:**

**Katniss' POV:**

The familiar scent of raw meat and blood engulfs me as I place the game over the counter. Rooba, the butcher, grabs one of the two squirrels by the tail, examining the wound.

"This here don't pay much," Rooba says. She's eyeing the game as if it will somehow come back to life.

I nod. "Yeah," I say, shrugging the game bag more securely on my shoulder. "Sold the rest."

She makes a disgruntled noise that sounds as if it came from deep in her throat – almost like a laugh, though she's not smiling. She looks as if she wants to say more, however, holds her tongue. Gale and I watch as Rooba tosses the game on a table, bloodstained and chipping from gutting and skinning a great amount of animals. The drawer in the counter surges open with a loud _thud!_ and Rooba grabs some money, and hands it to Gale, not making sure to count it.

The sound of my boots against the wood floor of my house is welcoming, reminding me of when my father would come home from the mines. I push the door open, causing it to creek, and Prim's blonde head to poke around the corner from the room we share with our mother.

To myself, and many else, Prim and I look nothing alike. She, with her golden locks and piercing blue eyes – looks much like my mother, who they say was once very beautiful – and me with my usual brown braid, stoic expression, and dull gray eyes look like my father, and could not even be associated as Prim's relative at times.

She scurries across the kitchen to me.

"Hi, Katniss," she sings, hugging me.

"How are you, Little Duck?" I ask, smiling at the nickname I made for her.

"I'm fine. How's Gale?"

"He's alright. Rory has caught a cold, though, so we didn't hunt long."

Normally, I would hunt until the Sun is just about to set, giving me enough time to sell. But today, I'm home at about 5:00, judging by the Sun.

"Dinner?" Prim implores, just as I'm shrugging off my jacket, nodding.

Prim and I pace around the kitchen, cubing meat, and brewing stew. I pull ot a small loaf of bread, a little something I thought I could use with our meal.

"Thought we could use this with the stew," I say. Prim turns around, and just as she does, her eyes bulge out of their sockets as if she had just seen a ghost.

"Katniss! Where'd you get the money?" she inquires.

"Peacekeepers," I say. She nods, and can't seem to wipe the smile off of her face as she sets the table.

**A/N: Hey, I know I didn't update it in a while… I don't have any excuse. Just don't think I've given up on you guys, because I plan on doing so much more. Remember, I want to split this into three fanfictions, so I'll be here for a while. I'm glad all of you get to read and help me progress as a writer. I appreciate constructive criticism, and hope you all take it upon yourself to notify me of any imperfections. **

**Card: Jack of Hearts**

**Letter in my name: L**

**I'm not done for the day, but I am for this chapter. See ya!**

**-A**


	6. Chapter 5

A/N:** Well, I wanted to make this one really long, so I did. Your welcome. By the way, I'm only twelve (someone already guessed my age, so what the heck) and know nothing about intimacy, so... eh. **

**Chapter 5:**

**Tris' POV:**

_ I hear the all too familiar _click! _of a bullet sliding into the chamber, and the ghostly cool feeling of the barrel pressing into the skin of my forehead. I stiffen, seeing that this is a situation that I am not likely to win._

_ The person holding the gun, however, is a mystery. Its face is distorted, although I'm looking right at it._

_"You…" he says, backing away as if I can't be touched. Still, he keeps the gun trained on me, though unsteadily._

_ I recognize the voice — male — but can't seem to put a face to it._

_"Who are you?" I ask, despite the chances of him telling me, slim, as it is._

_ Some features stand at attention — his lean figure, taut muscles, seemingly on edge — however, I can't place who it is._

_ I strain to comprehend the meaning of his words, clawing, gnawing, hoping to gain purchase on the thin thread of sanity I have left. His words, jumbled in my brain, nonsense._

_"You killed us," he states. "I trusted you…"_

_"What are you talking about?" I cry. My sudden burst of hysteria seems to startle him, and he almost drops the gun. "I don't know-"_

_"I trusted you..."_

_ Swiftly, the dense blanket of distress is lifted from me, and is replaced by something more, something inferior. _

_ Tobias stands in front of me. As he points the gun at me, his lip quivers. His eyes dart around the hallway fretfully, and his hands tremble unceremoniously._

_"You did this to us," Tobias finishes. _

_"No…" I say, refusing to believe it. "I wouldn't…" _

_ He drops the gun, and clutches my shoulders, his slender fingers digging. I wince at the contact—my shoulder hasn't completely healed._

_"Tris," he says, sounding a million miles away. "Tris…"_

_ I look into his face, and it seems to fade away, as if being blown by the wind._

_"Tris…" he calls once more._

* * *

Slowly, I open my eyes, and see Tobias hovering over me. His eyes have thick purple rings around them, his breaths haggard, and lengthy, an absolute contrast from seconds ago in my dream.

Once he sees my eyes open, he sits back on the balls of his feet, taking in my expression as I do the same to him. I sit up as well.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks, taking hold of my hand, rubbing circles with his thumb.

I shake my head, getting out of bed. This isn't the first time I've had a nightmare, and definitely isn't the last, and for that reason, I convince myself it's not a big deal.

I glance at the clock on the bedside table. 7:29. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I walk to the bathroom. I turn on the light, and look in the mirror. Seeing myself again seems surreal, although I would go a much longer time without seeing my reflection in Abnegation.

I look older than I used to, as if these two months had aged me. I've done much more in two months than I have in my entire 16 years, and that has completely altered the way I see myself. For the better, I think.

I turn on the sink, washing my face with water. When I walk out of the bathroom, Tobias is sitting on the bed. I peck him on the cheek, and nose, and lips. I'm about to leave, when he takes hold of my waist. He pulls my lips flush with his, and grabs at my hips. Ever since the war, our kisses have become more desperate, neither one of us being able to manage without the other for long. It hasn't gone farther than kisses and brief, limited touches, however.

Eventually, I pull back. I didn't want to, but both of us have responsibilities—he has a meeting with the leaders of all of the Factions and Factionless, with the exception of Edith. I place one last kiss on Tobias' lips, and head for the door, wanting so badly to turn back, and stay in the bed with the comfort of Tobias' arm slung around my waist. I know, however, we will not have much time to spare.

I can see, though, a time where Tobias and I will be able to stop fighting, where we can settle down and love each other. Although it may not be now, it may not be tomorrow, or the next day, it will come and Tobias and I will be together. We won't have to worry about losing anyone else, or having to sacrifice things. We can live.

* * *

The loud swooshing of the Chasm lulls me, despite the fact that if I slip, I will most certainly fall to my death.

The night Tobias brought me here—the night he revealed himself to me and proclaimed his love for me—seems to have come and gone. Nevertheless, out of all that has happened to me, I know I could never forget it.

It was one of the stolen moments—rare ones that came brief and acutely savored, remembered down to the last second—though now is different. It is now, that we are in some sort of pause, a mediocre excuse for peace, and I have ample time to indulge.

* * *

I don't know how long Edith will keep this up—organizing meetings, and working with the factions and their leaders, all to have them crumble and cave. I don't know how long the Factions will last. Nothing seems to last anymore.

No one is sure what she is planning, even so, we all expect it to be awful.

When Tobias walks in from the meeting, he wears a dreadful expression, and rubbing his face, he sits at the edge of the bed. He grabs hold of my hand, looking me in the eye for a moment, then letting them flick in the other direction. Something about that meeting unhinged him, and he's not trying to hide it. Maybe because he knows I would find out anyway, or he just doesn't care.

He moves closer to me, placing a kiss on my forehead. He's stalling—I know it—but I don't do anything about it. He seems aggravated enough, and I know he'll tell me when he's ready.

Running his hand up my thigh he sends me a heated glance, most definitely anticipating something. Between the soft, yet lustful kisses he's placing on my body, and his hand gliding along my thigh, I can't help but yearn for something as well.

It may not be me who is trying to forget something, but I still feel that need. I want to be close to him, I need to give him what he wants, but I can't.

I still his hand, placing it in mine, and squeezing lightly. I bring his lips to mine, and hope he understands. I still can't be close to him in the way I want to, in the way he needs me to.

He pulls away first, and lets out a raspy sigh. He runs a hand through his hair roughly, and looks down. I frown at him. I'm torn between what I want, and what I fear, though they may well enough be the same thing. Him getting hotheaded about it isn't helping, however.

I take my hand out of his, rubbing my hand down my face.

"I'm sorry," he concedes. "I forgot about your fear."

I nod, feeling the heat rising from my neck to my cheeks. This fear keeps nagging at me in a taunting matter, as if it is alive, and doing this for a good laugh.

"Evelyn was there. I knew she would be, but… I don't know. Something made me wish she wouldn't be.

"With her and Marcus, it just became overwhelming. Of course, they both disregarded 'playing nice for the cameras', as expected."

He shivers a bit, though he tries to cover it up. But I noticed, and he can't stop me from worrying.

I knew his parents effected him, there long extended family feud continues copiously, and that most certainly irritates him, probably even scares him, as it would any person, young or old. But I never knew he shuddered at the thought, sometimes even purses at it, as if he just swallowed bile.

Marcus and Evelyn have left their son battered, to fend for himself almost his entire life, to pick up the pieces of their dismantled relationship and carry them with him the rest of his years. No one should have to deal with that. No one should have to go through what he has, but he did, and there's nothing left to do but move on.

I clench at the thought. I am supposed to be the one who picks him up on the bad days, the one who makes him smile when no one else can, he wants me to be. But all I do is sit and watch, only because I feel I'm not able to, that I'm not worthy.

To him, it's like a slap in the face, yet I just go and do it again, sit here when he's hurting inside.

And I shouldn't do that, I can't do that.

I pull his face to mine, and kiss him full on the mouth, having made my decision. If my fears are going to get in the way of us being together, then I should know I can't let them. So I don't.

I slide my hands down his chest, coming to a stop at the hem of his shirt. I toy with it for a while, apprehensive about what I'm going to do. After a few seconds though, I push my anxiety down, to the bottom of me, and take the initiative. Slowly, I pull him shirt up, only breaking the kiss to pull it over his head, then tentatively doing the same with mine.

He breaks the kiss, reveling in my bare chest.

"We don't-" he starts.

"I _want_ to."

**A/N: Wow, I'm sweating. I don't know! I don't, I don't! That was hard. It took a while, but regardless, I'm sorry if it sucked.**

**Card: Red, Three of hearts**

**Letter: D (my name is about 7, 8, 9, or 10 letters long, you guess)**


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6:**

**Katniss' POV:**

Static… _pop!_... faint.

The huge screens in the Square buzz with activity, and boom to the Capitol anthem as the people of District 12 begin to fill the empty spaces on the street. Just as Prim, mother, and I enter the Square, the anthem ends, and President Snow stares back at us.

"Greetings, people of Panem! As you know, this year's Hunger Games is approaching. We have something extraordinary planned for this year. Fortunately, we have a representative from the Factions to inform you about this year's Games."

A woman walks stiffly to the podium from behind President Snow. She stands laboriously next to Snow as she speaks. She doesn't seem to be uncomfortable, just as if she's trying very hard to make a formal impression.

She has wrinkles under her eyes, hinting at her age. Her basic clothing shows she is not from the Capitol, but the colors insist that she's not from the Districts, either. Snow said she was from the… Factions, I think he called it. It's probably somewhere outside of Panem, otherwise I would have heard of it.

"Thank you, Mr. President. For those of you who don't know, my name is Edith Prior. I reside in the Faction system, a place outside of Panem. Recently, we have endured a tragic war, in which many were killed. Providentially, your President has agreed to let us join your numbers, and become part of this glorious country.

"Now, without further ado, I will pronounce the events of this year's Hunger Games: Because we are united, the people of our Faction system will participate in this year's Games, and hopefully, the rest to come. We look forward to the incredible future we hope to have."

The screen goes dark, and people begin to file out of the Square. Prim fits my trembling hand into hers. The anthem plays, though no one wants to stay long enough to salute. Most of us don't care enough to pledge our allegiance to this dictatorship of a country. Who would?

I don't hear anything. I don't want to see anything. I just let Prim's guiding hand lead me to our small house in the Seam.

We don't need more people dead, we need resolve. If this is their solution to a distorted system, I don't know what is right anymore. This—undeniably—isn't.

* * *

"Who are these Faction people, anyway?" I ask, though it was a rhetorical question. "Why do we have to help them?"

I pace through the dense forest, not really helping much with hunting. Gale doesn't seem to mind, however. In fact, he hasn't said a thing about it.

I stop a few feet in front of him, and see that he wasn't paying attention. His back is to me, and he is hunched over something—probably a snare—his fingers toiling.

He turns his head a bit. "Katniss, I know we don't know who these people are. I don't truly believe anything happened to them. But, what if it is true? They could be doing this against their will." He looks back to what he's doing. "I mean, that Edith person didn't have anyone with her. No assistant or anything."

I nod, even though he can't see me. I agree with Gale, although I don't want to. I stare at the back of his head, peeved at the fact that he appears so content with our situation.

"Gale," I say. He hums in response. "How many times is your name in?"

He takes a moment to answer, probably contemplating. He shouldn't feel the need to protect my feelings, though.

"42," Gale says. I stare at him, dubious. "I guess the odds aren't in my favor."

I feel the need to reassure him, to tell him everything will be alright. Though, that's not how Gale and I work. We don't keep things from each other, and lying is pretty much the same. Telling him everything will be alright is like telling a little boy their ice cream is still good when it just fell into a mud puddle.

I don't say anything, and it appears my silence is comfort enough. He rises from his spot, crouched on the ground, and walks over to me. When I look back to where he was bowled over, I see several snares set up about the area. At times like these, his hands are never idle.

"At least…" he starts. "at least we didn't revolt against the Capitol. The Factions are probably devastated."

"Yeah," I murmur, looking out as far as the clutter of trees will allow. How could we not have known there were other people out there?

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed the chapter! By the way, I know I haven't continued my regular fanfictions, and it's because I have major writer's block. So, leave any suggestions in the comments below.**

** I need 20 reviews stating what I should do for my fanfictions, because I need ideas. Its best I get them from you, because you are reading this, and I want to make you happy. Just make sure they are sensible and relevant. **

**Card: Black, Ace of Clubs.**

**Letter: R (There are three A's in my first name… just to put that out there.)**

** -A**


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